


Arrow Drabbles

by angelica



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Gen, Nanda Parbat, Pre-Series, sentence fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:55:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3696530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica/pseuds/angelica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some drabbles / one-shots</p><p>1. Pre-series: Thea Queen and Moira Queen<br/>2. Speculation fic - Nanda Parbat - Oliver x Felicity<br/>3. Season 4 Speculation fic - Oliver x Felicity and Oliver's secret talents</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sweetheart, what did you bury in the garden?”

“Sweetheart, what did you bury in the garden?”

Her mother walks over to where she is sitting on the ground, the grass staining the hem of her dress. She startles upon hearing her mother’s voice. It’s been so long that she has seen her mother out in the garden in daylight. If she hadn’t known better, she would have believed what Tommy told her years ago about Moira Queen being a vampire, always lingering in the dark, never going out in the sunlight.  
  
She jumps to her feet but doesn’t turn around to face her mother and clasps her hands together. There is still dirt on her hands, she is sure she is busted, but she doesn’t want to upset her mother. “Nothing.” she lies.  
  
“Sweetheart, what did I tell you about lying?” Moira asks.

Thea sighs and repeats the words that are etched into her brain. “You said dad wouldn’t appreciate lying.” she says nonchalantly. “Too bad he isn’t here to see that.” she adds.

“Thea.” Moira warns her.

“That’s the truth. He is dead. Oliver is dead. They don’t get to judge me for lying. It’s not like they were saints anyways, I’m pretty sure they lied whenever they could get away with it.” she scoffs, trying to walk away.

Her mother stops her with an arm grabbing her wrist. “Thea, yes, they are both gone but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t care about how we are now. I love you so much and I want the best for you. I don’t like seeing you lie.”

“Whatever.” Thea ignores her, frees herself from her mother’s grasp and rushes back into the mansion.

Moira watches as Thea disappears into the mansion. Defeated, she walks towards the spot Thea was kneeling on. The ground is disturbed and ignoring stains her skirt might get, she kneels and begins digging through with her bare hands until she discovers what seems to be a small wooden box. She picks up the box, clears the mud away and opens it. It’s a pair of Christmas tree ornaments Thea made for Oliver and herself. She remembers how happy she had been putting those on the tree during their last Christmas as a family.

Seeing the ornaments in the ground is like shock to her system, a sudden and clear reminder that her husband and her only son are gone, never coming back, and it’s time to move on.

The next week, two tombstones are erected on the spot where Thea buried the box. One for her husband and one for her son.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I’ve been checking you out.”

She knocks on the door and when she doesn’t hear a respond, she pushes the heavy door hesitantly until there is enough space for her to put her head through to look inside. The room is dimmed and only lighted with candles. She sees him sitting on what seems to be a chaise with his back turned to the door and to her.

“Hey.” she calls out and when he turns around, she steps inside. “I knocked on the door but you didn’t hear.” she says softly as she takes a step inside and closes the door behind her. 

“Hey.” he responds, his voice heavy and hoarse as she walks inside. His face is stoic and Felicity wishes just for once she could lift the burden of the world from his shoulders. 

“Are you okay?” she asks softly as she stops before him. “I’ve been checking you out.” she lets out, then stops herself when she realizes what she said. “I mean, I wasn’t checking you out, not that I wouldn’t, I have done that plenty of times. I meant I wanted to check up on you. I haven’t seen you since we stepped off the jet.”

Oliver gives her a sad smile. Normally he would smirk at her accidental innuendos, but he doesn’t. She knows that whatever happened during his meeting with Ra’s Al Ghul must have been really bad. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to accompany you.” he offers and she knows very well that it isn’t the time to apologize for things that are out of his control, like their airport pick-up arrangements. They are already in Nanda Parbat to deal with a situation they have no control over so he shouldn’t be worrying about how her ride to the temple with Nyssa had been.

“Oliver, what happened?” she asks, looking directly into his eyes. There is just so much sadness in there that breaks her heart. Ever since she opened up to him about her own feelings on the jet with Diggle lightly snoring just a row of seats behind them, she wants him to tell her everything he feels and wants to share his problems. It’s what they do as partners, and hopefully from now on, will do as lovers even though she hates that word. “What did Ra’s say?” she tries to hide the venom she feels on tip of her tongue at the mention of that man’s name, but fails.

“Nothing new that we haven’t already known of.” he admits. “I’m to start my position as the rightful heir of the demon tomorrow when the sun comes up.” 

“So we only have about five hours.” she says as she reaches out to hold his hands. They are warmer than she expected and the action changes his expression.

“Everything I did, everything that has happened has led me here… to this moment.” he tells her, looking right into her eyes. The tone of his voice confirms that he is as afraid as she is of whatever that is coming their way. Oliver becoming the next heir to the demon doesn’t mean anything to her except from the fact that he is going to be the most handsome one at that. It will be just another title, another persona for him and won’t change anything about the man he is deep down. The man she is in love with.

“And we’ll face it, together.” she says as she sits down with his hand still in hers, with their legs touching. They gaze into each other’s eyes and at that moment she knows that everything that has happened, him showing up in her office with terrible lies, her joining his mission, them saving the city several times, falling in love with each other, has led them there, to a room lighted with candles and covered in heavy drapery in Nanda Parbat. Despite what the locations signifies, despite what tomorrow holds, she is exactly where she needs to be. 

Slowly she leans in and touches his lips with hers. If they have only until the envious sun rises, if their entire world is going to end come morning, then she wants to savor every moment they have.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After seeing Guggenheim's photos on twitter, I made the edit in the link below and then ended up writing a story about it.  
> http://fulltimeprocrastinator.tumblr.com/post/128155347437

 

The package arrives at her apartment two days before she has to move. Her things are in boxes on top of each other, waiting to be moved into the mover's truck in less than forty-eight hours. She has to use plastic cutlery for food and drinks everything out of their bottle, including wine. She has only her tablet and her couch left untouched to entertain in the living room, but she rather enjoys being entertained in the bedroom, with her partner.

She forwarded her mailing address, changed her residence information in every place needed she could think of, so she is surprised to find the package left out on her doorstep. It's a box on the thin-side, resembles the shape of a coffee-table book. Her name is on it as the receiver without any information on the sender. Years of working in a basement helping out a real-life hero has taught of to be wary of things, but from the weight and the shape of the package, she is sure it's a book so she decides to pick it up.

"What's that?" she hears a voice behind her, from the kitchen area. She hugs the package close to her chest, closes the door and enters inside. 

"I don't know." she responds as she takes in the view of him drinking coffee shirtless in her kitchen, for maybe the last time.

She's been living in the same apartment since first moving to Starling City to work at Queen Consolidated. She had personalized everything, from the little accents to the furniture to the framed posters on the walls and made it a home for herself. She sure has loved her apartment, but now as she looks at him with a smile on his face, she can't help but wish time to move faster so that they could move into their new apartment and make it a home sooner. 

"The postman never knocks the door, always leaves packages at the doorstep. Nothing has been stolen so far, so I'm not complaining, but I'd rather prefer it if he actually acted like a real life postman and made himself known every once in a while and not run away. He's acting like he is a ghost. Or maybe he is a ghost and can't actually knock on the door because he doesn't have a corporal form? But that doesn't explain his ability to carry things." she rambles, then hears him clear his throat. "Sorry."

"Never apologize for thinking whether the postman is a ghost or not." he jokes. For someone who spent about 89 percent of his time brooding before, it still baffles her whenever he quips a little joke. It makes her love him more, if that's even possible. "Can I look at it?" he asks, nodding towards her chest.

"No, Oliver, we don't have time for that. We need to pack my shoes, and you know how long that's gonna take." she protests.

He starts laughing. "No, I meant the package."

"Oh." she blushes. "Right. There isn't a sender." She hands him the box.

"It arrived right on time." he admits as he picks the box from her hands and opens it without a care about what might be inside it. He rips the paper whatever inside the box is wrapped around and a large smile appears on his face. "I'm glad I chose expedited shipping." he announces as he opens what appears to be some sort of a photo album. "It looks great."

"What is that?" she asks, curious. She has no idea what's going on and wants to find out.

"A scrapbook." he simply answers, without lifting his head to look at her.

"A what?"

"A scrapbook." he repeats. He finally looks at her and the smile on his face gets replaced by a look of confusion probably after registering her befuddled expression. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oliver, you're holding a scrapbook. One you ordered?"

"I made it." he answers, looking proud of himself. "I made it using your tablet, with that app. Look at it."

Still confused, she snatches the book right out of Oliver's hands. It's leather-bound, really heavy. Feeling his eyes on her, she skeptically turns the cover of the book and is met with her own smiling face staring at her from its front page. It is their first photo as a couple, a selfie she had forced him to join in before getting in the Porsche to drive away from Starling City and start their journey together. She feels tears filling her eyes for a moment, and looks at Oliver while covering her mouth with a hand. He gives her a sheepish look. Then she starts turning the pages. It's them. The scrapbook is filled with photos of them together.

"Do you like it?" he asks.

She can't answer him for fear that her voice won't be heard amongst the emotions she is feeling at the same time. He had the book designed in such a way that there are layouts of maps in the background and there are doodles of things like a camera and a backpack surrounding them. There are pictures of them all over, all through their roadtrip. There is them with smiles on both their faces after a successful hike to see a waterfall - a photo she clearly remembers Oliver asking someone to take for them. There is them eating at a restaurant, there are pictures of their legs tangled in sheets. There is the, as she had called it, obligatory photo of their legs towards the ocean as they lay on the beach to sunbathe. There is a photo of her sleeping in bed in one of the many hotel rooms they had shared.

It is so perfect and so cheesy and she loves it. She loves the scrapbook, loves the man who made it. She drops the book on the counter and basically attacks Oliver with her mouth.

"Felicity, what about packing your shoes?" he asks in between kisses.

"It can wait." she breathes out and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me at tumblr: fulltimeprocrastinator.tumblr.com


End file.
